


Union of Two Houses

by Akuoni



Category: Hellsing
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 17:30:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 3,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9668714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akuoni/pseuds/Akuoni
Summary: A story of Anderson and Sir Hellsing being forced to marry. I've gotten tired of looking at it. I might add to it, but I don't think so.





	1. Prelude

There was yelling in the seat of the most holy of the Holy See. Frantic Italian raised to a shrill tone as the man paced before the pope. Long hair trailed like a silken banner as the voice of God's will made his request. His command.

He had been in congress with the head of the English church behind the Iscariot's back and made a pact that would seal the households together in the face of their enemy. This heretic who desired nothing but war. This Acolyte of Mars. While they waited for the final shoe to drop, a wedding would be had and Iscariot had the perfect suitor. Sadly, a bishop could never marry, but according to canon, a priest could…

If the Holy See were to make an exception.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~

There was a stony silence in the throne room where the Knights of the Round Table sat. The queen had been quite patient as she requested Integra to speak with her alone. Without even her most loyal servants at her side. She had a request that the other Knights could not fulfill. Many were married and those that were not were unsuitable for this request for one reason or another. And besides, there was the fact she was the last of her line.

Integra was a Hellsing.

And Hellsings proved that they were not above doing their duty. No matter how distasteful it was. Her lips were pursed when she finally made it to the car. Walter had made sure she was settled before sitting in the driver's seat and starting.

There was silence in the car before she spoke, the words causing Walter to gasp. Were he any lesser at keeping his emotions in check, it is likely he would have spun out or had an unfortunate accident.

"I will need to stop in town for a white gown. I have been requested to be married by the end of the month. The Queen has selected my Husband-to-Be and is quite insistent that such matters be handled with due pomp and ceremony as befitting one of her Majesty's Royal Knights."


	2. Preparation

Anderson glowered at his reflection as his tuxedo was pinned and marked and prepared for the wedding. Beside him, there was Father Reynaldo and Bishop Maxwell as well as several others of Iscariot all being prepared for this farce of a ceremony. Yumiko and the other nuns were in another room to be fitted in gowns while Heinkel had a room to themselves. He flinched as a pin jabbed his hip and heard the irate grumble of the tailor who was unfamiliar with how a proper formal kilt suit was to be fitted. If he had his choice, there would be no wedding, but the Pope had made his request and Anderson must be the sacrificial lamb to unify the house that had once been severed.

He didn’t even know who it was he was to marry.

A part of him wanted to rage. He wasn’t meant for marriage. He was a warrior. A soldier of God. A shepherd that protected his flock from the wolves. He was no husband. His heart was too full to accept another. He closed his eyes against the sharp pangs like splinters of ice that burned in his chest. Too full. Not broken by long dead promises of Brothers Forever and glory on a battlefield.

A deeper part of him was quietly hopeful. A wife, even an Anglican, would mean a child. A son or daughter. One of his own flesh and blood. A dream he had quietly laid to rest long ago when he took up the cloth. He knew that the wedding would have to be consummated, but he was nervous. He was no young man and had spent many of his younger years doing everything but exploring his attraction to other people.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Integra was silent as the gown was fitted, the swathes of white, of cream, of myriad shades that all pointed at her state of Virgin and the jewelry that was to accompany the pointless dress that she would only wear once. She stood with her back straight, unwilling to show weakness in front of others as the silk and satin and chiffon and lace were brought out and paraded. Her loyal butler ever at her side and her servant a brooding bloody cloud in the waiting room as she spent hours on her feet until she went home aching and gutted. Exhausted and despondent.

She was afraid, fearing the looming specter of her husband. Would he kill her? Weaken the Hellsing organization and unwittingly release a monster that had been kept shackled for a century? The thoughts rolled round her head, tension rising as the day drew near. This would end terribly. She had no doubt that this would be a disaster. Especially with the name of her intended kept a secret. Did they fear she would flee if they were to tell her his name? Did they even know who the Vatican had chosen to be her husband?

Her discomfort had even drawn her servant from his lair, the damned monster lurking in the shadows and walls as he observed her with a pensive frown. She had no doubt he would be upset by the news. She was not a fool to recognize his overtures as anything but what they were. He was not just affirming her status as his jailor and keeper, but she never acknowledged it. He was her servant. He had no place in her bed.

And now he never would.


	3. Celebration

The Day of their wedding had arrived. The vampire was to remain at home. It would not do for there to be a vampire at a wedding involving the Iscariots. The groom stood impatiently, awaiting his bride. She would be a virgin of the ranks of the Anglican church. He was the closest to being the leader of the Iscariots without being a Bishop, and everyone knew he had no desire for power beyond that to protect.

The broad-shouldered Paladin stiffened when he heard the Wedding March, knowing his fate was sealed. He waited until she was at his side before looking over to see her veil. A part of him recoiled, revulsion at the idea of promising forever to someone he didn’t even know, but he forced himself to turn his attention to the two Priests who were overseeing the proceedings.

Integra was horrified. The Broad back could belong to anyone, and perhaps there was more than one Gaelic or Celtic Iscariot, But she knew even before she made it to his side. Peering at him through the thick gossamer veil, her heart sank at the sight of a livid red scar tracing a line towards the bridge of his nose and the green-blue eyes of the Paladin of Iscariot who was their trump card. She couldn’t speak, but trembled as the men began the wedding.

Anderson felt the way his bride shook at his side, but said nothing. He was imposing in height, but he wouldn’t hurt her. He was gentle as he took her hand in his and slid the ring onto a dainty finger. He stiffened at the voice that came from beneath the veil, his eyes widening before he could catch himself. He forced himself to relax as she took his hand in her own and placed the ring on his finger.

It was time to kiss. His hands shook as he lifted the veil and found himself looking down into a piercing blue. The last time he had seen her, they had been locked in mortal combat and he had attempted to decapitate her. He closed his eyes and released a sigh. Opening his eyes, he leaned down and drew her up enough to place a chaste kiss on her lips before slowly lowering her back onto her feet. There was a subdued clapping before they turned and stepped down the aisle.

Wedded in the eyes of their shared God.


	4. Ride

Silence reigned in the closed space that was the limousine that they sat in. Integra had schooled her emotions, hiding the way she trembled and Anderson had made no comment on her fear. He understood now why she shook. Their last meeting he had tried to kill her and she had no promises of safety from him.

He cleared his throat and blinked when she looked at him intently, wary as a wild creature. He almost smiled, surprised that such a strong woman could be so jumpy. But then again, she was only human.

“I’m nae goin tae hurt you la-... Integra,” he offered, watching her narrow her eyes at him. Contemplating his words. He shivered, but continued regardless, “I ken you dinnae want this, but we are together now. I will be a good husband if you let me.”

“This is an alliance, not a love match,” her tone was hard, though she was surprised by the flinch that her words incited. She wasn’t sure what he was planning, but refused to let her guard down. He could be intending on taking advantage of any weakness she presented, but they were to be married until one of their deaths, “There will be boundaries set and I will not have my Organization undermined by outside influence.”

“I have no intention o takin control of your heathen organization,” he sneered, temper rising that the overture he had made was so crassly ignored in favor of walls being put up, “I dinnae ken whit sort o world you live in, but I refuse tae simply live in a house where my presence is merely tolerated. I dinnae want a stranger fer a wife, I would rather an equal!”

“Y-You what?” her eyes widened in surprise. After too many snide remarks, half-hidden barbs, she was used to a man never quite taking her seriously. That Anderson was willing, and eager, to have a wife who would not submit as a subservient woman was a surprise. He had seemed to be the traditional sort with his harsh words and cruel tongue, “But you tried to kill me.”

“Aye, I did, but we were enemies then,” he acknowledged, crossing his arms and turning to look out of the window. His body language practically screamed his displeasure. She thought to speak more, but he had effectively communicated that he was done speaking with her and would not continue any further.

She sank back into her seat and looked out of her own window, wondering how she could have made such a gross miscalculation.


	5. Reception

The reception was a subdued affair, but the happy couple entered arm-in-arm with smiles for everyone. Some children ran up, smiles on their faces and smudges of chocolate on more than one cheek, but Anderson intercepted several with sticky hands that ended up smeared on his own waistcoat and kilt. Saving the gown from the threat of chocolate stains as his face lit up with a joy that was almost painful to see. Integra found she couldn’t look at him with a child in each arm and a father’s gleam in his eyes. He was a man who could love fiercely and that scared her more than the idea that he would kill her.

Anderson ignored his wife. It was in name only, but he didn’t think he could accept a woman who would not learn to accept or respect him. She hated him too much to see past their first meeting and he didn’t blame her. It didn’t hurt any less to know she thought him a monster. He sighed and put the children in his arms back on the ground and waved them off, chuckling as they ran to play. They were lovely, but children often knew so little of how the world worked. He was no less glad for this fact. They would not notice that their beloved Father Anderson was unhappy so long as he smiled for them and agreed his new bride was as lovely as an angel.

The rituals were observed, toasts made to the wedding. To the bride and groom. To the union of two houses. Cheers and claps. And then there was music. He led her onto the dance floor where they shared their first- and likely only dance. The Knight was elegant and poised as they glided around the dance floor, but the surprise was in the grace of the giant who held her in his arms. She had not expected the brutish man to move with the fluidity of a waltz, but he was apparently a man of many talents.

The song ended and another one started as Sir Irons asked her to dance. Her husband relinquished his hold as she was whisked away by the old gentleman. To her surprise, the rest of the knights exchanged hands until the very last was Sir Penwood. The Gentleman was as nervous and trembling as ever, but the smile he had was that of a doting uncle as he praised her bravery and promised to always be there for her. She couldn’t hold back tears as he led her back to her place. The poor man panicked, searching his pockets for a handkerchief and dabbing at her eyes with a fatherly concern that had a watery smile form on her lips.

She was still reigning in her wayward tears when she sat, though she didn’t notice the look of concern the Priest tamped down. He was concerned, but he didn’t wish to show it. Not when he believed she would reject that as well. She had made it absolutely clear that this would be a marriage in name only. And he would respect her wishes even if it meant his own wants fell to ashes. A part of him resented her harshness, but he supposed it was for the best. It was likely this marriage would end in bloodshed by the time the war was over.


	6. Nightfall

The Reception ended as they normally do. With a thrown garter and bouquet before the happy couple cut the cake and smeared it over the other’s face. It had started off with them feeding each other, but a streak of mischief had the Paladin acting childish and Integra had reacted in kind. Their laughs were of amusement rather than malice and they smiled as they wiped the cake from their faces. The smiles faded as they looked at each other before Anderson looked away and they separated. They were quick to leave once the prerequisite attentions were paid to the festivities.

Integra was quick to replace her uncomfortable white heels with more pragmatic shoes, sighing as the aching was relieved. Anderson too shed the extraneous layers and accessories that came with his formal kilt, the now-unfamiliar tightness and looseness in various areas uncomfortable. There was silence between them, but neither of them felt inclined to break it. Instead, Integra watched him from the corner of her eye as he folded his coat and vest with a care that seemed at odds with his bestial nature.

It was unnerving to know he was so human, but she made no comment. Instead, she turned her gaze to the window and listened as he busied himself with his self-administered task until it was done and he sat quietly once more. There was an uncomfortable silence as they sat together. There was a tension that she didn’t dare break, knowing how dangerous the paladin could be. The man had nearly taken her head off when they had first met and even her reflexes had nearly not been enough.

The Paladin didn’t look at her once they entered the room they were to share before the week-long honeymoon they had been given. Anderson was a night-owl by profession and by nature and the early hour of the wedding and it’s festivities had exhausted him. He didn’t look at her as he grabbed a sleeveless white shirt and silken black boxers before holing himself up in the bathroom to wash. Integra didn’t wince at the slamming of the door, taking the time to grab her own sleeping gown and trying not to look at the single king-sized bed they would be sharing. Then she realised something. Her lips twitched in amusement.

A standard king was shorter than the Paladin by at least several centimeters.


	7. Unbalanced

Anderson returned to the bedroom and paused at the sight of her sitting on the bed stiffly. Still in her wedding finery rather than already changed or preparing. He furrowed his brow but she cleared her throat with a delicate noise and looked over her shoulder at him. He watched as a faint pink hue rose in the cheek visible to him and he tilted his head in a silent inquiry.

“I can’t reach the zipper,” she finally admitted. The soft huff of laughter darkened the color in her skin and she scowled, turning to face forward once more. She was surprised to feel the bed shift beneath her, the springs of the mattress creaking beneath his weight, but the hand on her shoulder was light. Not a chastisement or mockery in words, but silent assistance.

The Paladin was gentle as his large hand caught the tiny zipper and gently drew it down, careful not to catch her hair or skin. Once he was certain that she could finish removing the dress on her own, he let go and moved back to his side to get off the bed while she was left to wonder at his uncharacteristic kindness. She swallowed before thanking him and stood to go into the bathroom to prepare for bed herself.

By the time she returned, there was only the light by her side and the paladin laying on his side of the bed. As she had noted, his feet were dangling off the edge. It wasn’t as amusing an image as she had thought it would be. Despite his harsh words, he had been patient and not risen to the fighting beyond what she had said. He hadn’t threatened her and had even been insulted at her assumptions that he intended some dastardly plot. 

Anderson was silent as he listened to her breathing slowly even out. His eyes were closed and his body lax, but he was very much aware as she slid into bed behind him.She was a strange sort. Brave to the point of foolishness, but not stupid. He could respect her, but he didn’t trust her when she obviously didn’t trust him. He couldn’t afford to.


	8. Morning

The day after the wedding, Integra woke to an unfamiliar sensation. She was warm and there was a weight on her that wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable and a low rumbling sound in her ears. Opening her eyes, she found herself staring at a white cotton undershirt with tawny strands that peeked out of the top. She lifted her head to catch sight of the still-sleeping Paladin, his striking teal eyes closed and a look of blissful peace smoothing away the lines on his face. He was not an ugly man, but his features were strong and she could see small scars that littered his skin. Scars that were not visible unless one was up close as she was. She didn’t remember moving in the night, but they must have.

She was careful as she disentangled herself, but he seemed not to notice as he snored faintly beside her. She smiled at the thought that the paladin had likely broken his nose before becoming a Regenerator. She frowned suddenly, wondering what else it was she didn’t know about the elusive Paladin. To be fair, there was a lot she didn’t know. The man was a ghost. A legendary vampire hunter and exorcist, but she knew nothing about him as a man.

She wondered about him. This man was only that. And yet, she knew he could shrug off bullets that would put down even a vampire. He had a bloodlust to rival her vampire, but he had rescued her dress from the grubby hands of children and had smiled at them with the warmth of a father. She felt a pang, but ignored it. Her father had loved her, but Helsings had long learned to ignore their feelings when the servant that slept beneath their feet would easily use that against them.

She was already dressed and ready for the day by the time he opened his eyes and she smiled at the owlish blinking of the groggy priest. He looked almost like a large cat as he stretched languorously, the bones cracking and popping loud enough to turn her stomach. He sounded like an old man with how his bones settled so loudly. She shook her head and held out an orange to him, watching as teal eyes focused on the fruit with a blank incomprehension before clarity returned to him and he reached out with a hum of thankfulness. She placed it in his hand and watched as he sat up and carefully began to peel it. To her surprise, he was methodical, removing it as a single long strip and rolling it back into an approximation of an orange before cracking the fruit open and taking it apart. He looked up at her and offered half of the separated orange.

She hesitated only a moment before taking it in hand and peeling a segment. She popped it in her mouth and bit down, enjoying the sweet taste, but blinked when he brought his half up and sank his teeth into it as it was. The paladin should have made a mess. The juice should have ended up all over his face and dripped from his chin. Instead, he slurped at the sweet liquid and licked his lips as he devoured the fruit with actions far too sensuous for a man to be ignorant of his own appeal. And yet, when he looked up and caught her staring, a red flush started in his neck to travel up to his cheeks and he looked away quickly. She smiled and returned to her half, wondering at the demureness of her new husband.


End file.
